


Until Next Time, My Love

by offbrandowl (queenowl)



Series: Setleth [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Romance, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 09:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20240299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenowl/pseuds/offbrandowl
Summary: From the bud of trysts has bloomed a most glorious flower, one that is all too uncomfortable to name... Seteth comes to a new understanding of his relationship with Byleth. He may have denied it before, but their latest tryst leaves him with no choice...





	Until Next Time, My Love

**Author's Note:**

> Contains spoilers if you have not played Seteth/Flayn's paralogue or reached Seteth and Flayn's A support (with each other.)

Seteth paces his office impatiently. It's been days--no. weeks. It's been weeks since he's seen her.

The thought alone makes him obscenely tense with unmistakably petty but ever-present discomfort. Surely he has not displeased her again...? Since the time he had obtained her forgiveness, their relationship has moved smoothly along in the shadows, his heart permeated with pleasantries that he has not felt abound in his chest in an age. Perhaps that is what fuels his impatience.

The monastery has always been busy, so in consideration of the fact that he is certain she would express her displeasure with him openly if she had any, Seteth can actually understand why she had not stopped for a visit recently... but he is a man who keenly feels the importance of making time for others.

Namely, is she truly so busy that she hasn't a moment to spare for a quick greeting, or even a sparring lesson? As well rounded as she is, he has been around much longer. He is certain that he has knowledge to impart, if only she would seek him out.  
  
It is, for lack of a better word, most frustrating. He should give her a piece of his mind.  
  
But...  
  
Even so, he knows that such thoughts are mere lies. It is easier to think to himself that she is neglecting her responsibilities than it is to express his true thoughts on the matter. He needs to speak with her.  
  
Urgently.  
  
It's an impossible thing, for him to take the initiative--her own room rests amongst that of her students. How could he obtain the much needed privacy for their tryst? That... that is to say for her scolding?  
  
Seteth stops pacing his office to touch his mouth with a delicate, trembling hand. So many weeks since he had last been touched by her...  
  
It was impossible for him to believe that he had lived centuries without this maddening Professor and now it only took days for him to miss her so.  
  
_...Tsk._  
  
He struggles to dismiss the thought, but find it's too true to be possibly ignored. Ah, well. There is no fighting it. He supposes it isn't so bad to admit such a truth if he didn't have to say as much aloud... but the fact that he's thought it at all is rather alarming.  
  
Seteth runs a hand through the soft, full strands of his hair.  
  
This would drive him mad if he left the matter be. He must see her.

Seteth leaves his office with purpose, striding down the halls with a grim expression.

...Or, at least, he assumes it's a grim expression, because as he strides the halls, the students usually eager to approach seem to take a single look at his face and immediately to choose to be elsewhere. He is uncertain where the professor could be, so he starts his search with a slight detour. He maintains that it is all but impossible for him to reach out to her at the dorm--students would find it most unusual that it was bound to start... unsavory conversations. He has no choice but to enlist the assistance of the only person he can think of.  
  
_Flayn._  
  
He marches right down to his daughter's classroom.  
  
"**Flayn.** Flayn!" He calls out, knowing that if she is abiding by the schedule, she should be there in her house's Officers Academy room using the blackboard to finish her classwork.

...And there she is, a reward for his diligence. Right away, green swirls of hair shift out of the way to reveal bright green eyes, wide with surprise.

"Yes, brother? Whatever could be so urgent?"  
  
He balks. Is he so transparent? He clears his throat and tugs at the hem of his jacket.  
  
"Urgent? What possesses you to think that I have an urgent matter? I don't. Not at all. Rather, it is simply a... minor request. An inquiry, really."  
  
Flayn tilts her head curiously.  
  
"You came down to the classrooms for just a minor inquiry?" He narrowly avoids sputtering a defensive reply, largely because Flayn follows up her own question with a soft, if cheerful smile. "Well, no matter, brother! The professor has asked our house to complete this assignment by sunrise. It must simply wait until after then." She clasps her hands together eagerly. "I am ordinarily not one to rush, but I most certainly refuse to be the last to submit my assignment!"  
  
Wait until _sunrise_? He absolutely cannot. And yet... with his daughter's eyes shining before him, he is loathe to deny her.  
  
"Of... course it can wait, Flayn." _I will simply waste a way in the meantime._  
  
He hates himself for thinking in such dramatics, but in all honesty, he truly feels that way. He convinces himself that waiting until morning would not deprive him of his life force and clears his throat politely. Perhaps he could just... let it slip.  
  
"Flayn, I just need to know--have you seen the professor? I am aware that you are otherwise occupied, but I have some... rather pressing matters to discuss."  
  
To his surprise, Flayn sets her mouth in a line. "I see through you, brother! Before it was an minor inquiry and now a pressing matter... hmph!" She folds her arm, glowering at him with displeasure. "I have _not_ seen her! And if I had, I wouldn't tell you. I know you, brother. You're just going to try to tamper with my grades!"  
  
"_Flayn!_ I will do no such thing. I merely just... wish to see her. That is, to speak with her--about matters that do not at all concern you."  
  
Flayn stamps her foot declaratively. "I will not be deceived! If you wish for my assistance, I will see you at sunrise and no earlier!"  
  
  
  
  
Banished from the Academy grounds, Seteth has no choice but to retreat to his office. He shuts the door behind him, taking the utmost care not to slam it instead and barely succeeding. This was folly, it was. The next time he saw her, he would be sure to end their trysts. If she had no time for him, then--  
  
"Rough day?"  
  
The professor's voice nearly causes him to jump out of his skin. He quickly composes himself before turning abruptly in her direction, his surprise making his words sharper than he intends.  
  
"I do not appreciate you trespassing in my office unpermitted."  
  
"Trespassing..." To his surprise, Byleth's expression drops. "I apologize. That was... not my intention." Seteth finds that as he stares at her, it is impossible to stay irritated. He grips at the feeling to keep his resolve not to confess the words that he is certain lie heavy in his gaze, but his displeasure slips through his fingers like sand. Now, he only wants to hold her.

The professor stands abruptly, taking quick strides towards the exit. "I will see to it that I do not... intrude any further, then." As she passes him, Seteth cannot help but hold out a hand to stop her. Not long ago, he was made aware of how his words could affect her. Seteth clears his throat. He needs to take more care.  
  
"I'm sorry, Byleth. That was unnecessarily sharp of me. I... was looking for you." The surprise must run deep because he actually sees it surface on her face. He cannot deny the pleasure it brings him to see her emote. He cannot deny the pleasure it brings him to see her at all. Goddess help him, he cannot hold his words in any longer. "Perhaps this meeting is providence. Professor--" He stops himself. This is not a matter of the school, nor the church. "No. Byleth. I... have matters of great importance to speak with you on, and I may not appreciate the how of the opportunity, but since it is here... I will take it in hand." Byleth turns towards him, tilting her head. The question lies heavy on his tongue. _What is this between us, this... magnetic pull that forces me to trail after you as though I am leashed to your very whims?_  
  
But he knows by now that she is not to blame for his behavior; no, rather, he willingly _chooses_ to be leashed to her very whims. To be leashed to her. He steels himself, his expression grim.  
  
"As I'm sure you are well aware, Byleth, I have no right to be displeased with you." He folds his arms and turns towards her to face her full-on. "And in all honesty, I am not. I am merely... frustrated by you." Byleth shifts her posture, her expression confused as she considers his words. He is silent for a moment, but to his surprise, she prompts him.

"In what way?"

Seteth clears his throat uncomfortably. Tentatively, he takes her hand in his and presses it lightly against his chest. He'd always preferred a form-fitting uniform, crisp and freshly pressed, a fact he is most grateful for considering that the fabric is not so thick that it conceals the fluttering movement in his chest or the way his heart quickens under the pressure of her hand. He wishes her hand were touching his bare flesh instead, tangled in the light coat of hair there...  
  
"In... precisely the way you are thinking." Seteth drops his voice further. "Byleth... my love... I wish to take claim of your affections. Even if it must be done in secret to the outside world, I can no longer quietly abide to being totally taken by you and being unaware of if I am here in this alone." Seteth hesitantly drops his hands. "I know that you do not know, much less understand everything there is to know about me. I know that I am exceedingly good at hurting your feelings and saying the things that you do not wish to hear. But... but I hope that in this, I have left no space for misunderstanding. These trysts are but a sampling and I am no longer satisfied with them. I wish to drink you in, to always have your taste on my tongue." He pauses at the weight of his words, wondering if he's said too much. And yet, he cannot stop himself from blurting one more sincerity."I... want you. With permanence. Nothing else will do."  
  
He waits for her reaction, the admission a relief. How long has he held those words in for fear of the future? It makes his heart quake to think how such defiance will turn out, aware as he is that his future is much more permanent than Byleth's, It is terrifying, to live in the now with out such considerations, but he cannot help but to think he is driven to no other choice.

He has tasted what it was to lose Byleth, even temporarily, and imagining it happening a second time... is, said frankly, unacceptable.

He can only hope, and thus far, the fact that she has not removed her hand from his chest gives him many reasons to hope--and her single step closer gives him many more.

"I see."  
  
And Byleth slips her arms around him, standing on her toes to rest her chin on his shoulder. _Ahh..._ Such simplicity in touch is refreshing. Here, in the privacy of his office, Seteth feels his knees weakening with relief. He brings his arms up and snakes them around her body, squeezing her against him. He missed her.  
  
She pulls away from the embrace and rests on her heels, cupping his cheek lightly. Byleth gives him a look, her eyebrows scrunched together as in mock exasperation. He flushes.  
  
"Don't give me that look. It took me quite a bit of time to come to this point and I'll not have it taken from me." He tries to keep his voice as firm as possible, but his gaze can't help but soften at the pink flush across her cheeks. She trails her hand down from his cheek to his neck, and before he knows it, with quick, deliberate fingers, the set of buttons at his neck have been pried straight apart, revealing the pale, firm skin of throat. Seteth grabs her hands before it can go any further.

"Byleth. We _mustn't_."

Slowly, Byleth drags her gaze upwards to stare at him inquisitively. He hisses between his teeth, quickly before he thinks again. "The students, Byleth. It is much too risky." Why must he be the voice of reason? Her expression wilts with such immediacy that he has no choice but to press a kiss against the base of her open palm.  
  
She fails miserably at trying not to look disappointed... but just as he thinks all is well, a pleased, catlike expression crosses her face. She pushes against him, taking hurried steps forward until his back hits one of the wall's smooth stone pillars. He can't help his surprise.  
  
"_Professor!_ What are you--" Byleth silences him with her lips, gripping his shoulders in earnest. Seteth finds him so surprised that he almost doesn't respond--but as her warm tongue slips against his mouth, his hesitation disappears just as quickly. He rests his hands lightly against her lower back, his thumbs rubbing small, slow circles against the fabric there. "_Mhm_..." He doesn't mean to sound so satisfied, but it's only natural.  
  
After all, he has wanted this for quite some time now.  
  
Byleth breaks the kiss.  
  
The flow of his breath comes and departs quickly, and as he takes a moment to steady it, Byleth takes the opportunity to lean forward and press her mouth against the still exposed skin of his chest. There isn't much space to work with, so she pops another two buttons open and pushes at the shoulder of his uniform to kiss him along his breastbone. He does all he can to stifle the sounds he very much wants to make.  
  
But... the students. Always the students.  
  
He dismisses the accursed creatures from his mind.  
  
The sweet touch of Byleth's lips are, in a word, pleasant. In two, beyond pleasant.  
  
It's not the most articulate thought he's ever processed, but Seteth tries not to dwell on it too much, instead, focusing all of his attention on muffling the much hated, uncontrollable sounds squeezing past his lips and threatening to ruin everything.  
  
_Tap, tap._  
  
The sound at the door is routine, maybe even expected, but just those small noises make his skin run cold.  
  
"Professor?"  
  
If he thought he was cold before...  
  
How did they know?! He had been so careful... or maybe he hadn't been. Maybe someone was keeping track of them. Maybe she was followed--_tap, tap._  
  
"Um... Professor Seteth?"  
  
_Oh._ Right. He is also a professor. He takes a deep, trembling breath, wiping his uncomfortably moist brow, then tries to still his heart. He doesn't even dare to look down at Byleth's face as he projects his voice from their precarious position.   
  
"Oh! You'll have to excuse me, I was lost in thought. What is it?"  
  
"Lady Rhea is requesting you in the audience chamber." She is, is she...? Seteth tries not to grit his teeth in frustration. He felt if he did it anymore, his teeth would crack from the pressure. "It seems a scout has returned with an important report."  
  
"Excellent." _Certainly not_. "I will report shortly. Thank you very much."  
  
Light footsteps fall away--how he had not heard them approach is a mystery--and when he lets out a sigh of relief, it isn't the only one uttered. He looks down at the other source of breath, and as his eyes meet Byleth's, they exchange small smiles.  
  
_How troublesome._  
  
Seteth presses another kiss firmly to her mouth. Just one. He cannot delay, after all. He rests his forehead against hers as carefully, regrettably, Byleth re-buttons his uniform. As he lifts his neck for her to reach the final button, she presses a soft kiss against it, then completes her work.  
  
"Byleth..." He softly calls out her name and receives her cool gaze in reply. "I know that once I depart from this room, our relationship will be forever changed. I cannot express how much that pleases me. But... I cannot treat you differently from this point forward. Not now. Not yet." He reaches out with the knuckles of his hands, gently brushing them across her cheek. "What we have must be confined to this room. If it were to get out..." _You would be in danger._ But he cannot say these words. "The reputation of the school could be affected."

For once, his stoic professor replies with words.

"Such weight on your shoulders... You worry much, Seteth." Byleth stares at him affectionately.  
  
He is dying for the day when he can tell her everything, when the light of her eyes would be filled with knowledge of all there is to know of him. There is a part of him that expects a sense of foreboding, but for the most part, his heart flutters with optimism. He cannot imagine a world where she would accept him like this in the shadows, yet reject him when his secrets came to light.  
  
Byleth's voice is quiet, firm.  
  
"I vow to protect this, Seteth." _To protect you. _The words are unsaid, but he can hear them, clear as day. He takes a step forward to press a final kiss against her lips. A promise to whatever is to come. He savors the taste, squeezing her body tightly against his. When he pulls away, he bows formally and, lifting his head, gazes at her tenderly. Seteth wonders how in the world he will be able to look at her with any other eyes.  
  
"Until next time, Professor." _Until next time, my love._


End file.
